Punch's Cousin, Chapter 5

Julian’s cloak did little to protect him from the driving rain. He’d begun to feel the fabric grow heavier and heavier on his back as soon as he and Arthur rode away from the stables. The cold rain stung his face like sharp needles, and, yet, Julian felt overheated. His heart pounded in his chest as Fallbridge Hall grew smaller in the distance. They hadn’t even left the estate yet, but Julian’s panic was mounting. Behind every tree, he saw dangerous movement. In every shadow, a grim face glared at him. He could feel meaty, calloused hands on his throat—scraping as they milked the breath from his body.

Arthur seemed unfazed by the rain and the growing dimness of the evening. His cool eyes were ice above the butter of his smile.

They stopped outside an ivy-covered stone structure.

“Shall I help you, Sir?” Arthur asked.

“No. Thank you.” Julian said, dismounting. “I haven’t been here in years,” Julian muttered—not necessarily to his footman, but more to the building itself. “I used to bring Barbara here to play when she was a child. I’d hoped she’d love it.”

Built a century or more earlier, the folly was the whim of one of Julian’s ancestors—some Duke of Fallbridge of whom his mother never spoke and whose portrait had been removed from the Great Hall. Like a miniature abbey, it was a wide, squat building with Romanesque arches and a massive wooden door. Purely without function, the folly was erected simply as an ornament to the gardens. Yet, Julian found it a delightful place to play when he was a boy. He had hoped that Barbara would have also found the place to be as wonderful as he had. Julian had pretended to be St. George seeking out the dragon within. He’d made the place his own fantasy land. Barbara, on the other hand, preferred to sit inside and have the under-house-parlor-maid bring her oranges and little cakes to eat. Even as a child, Barbara liked being the lady of the house—no matter where she was. Julian recalled her six-year-old voice as Barbara called the place her, “wee castle” where she was the sole queen.

Perhaps, in her escape from her marriage to Lord Marsden, she’d retreated to the folly to, once again, be the queen. That, at least, was Julian’s hope. Surely, she was still on the grounds. Surely.

Julian pushed on the folly’s door which resisted him at first. With a loud groan, it finally gave in. Dust and cobwebs welcomed Julian back to his former fantasy land.

“No one’s been in here, Sir.” Arthur said abruptly.

“Steady on,” Julian said, sweating despite the cold. “We don’t know that.”

“Lady Barbara couldn’t have opened that door by her lonesome, if you’ll pardon me saying it.” Arthur continued.

“Well, we can make sure of it. And, at the very least, get out of this blasted rain for a moment so that I can think about where to go next.” Julian answered.

Julian stooped over to avoid hitting his head on a support beam as he walked into the folly. How much smaller it seemed!

Something scurried in the corner.

“A mouse, most likely.” Julian mumbled.

“Sir?” Arthur asked.

“A mouse.” Julian said. “I thought I saw a mouse in the corner.”

“Shall I kill it, Lord Fallbridge?” Arthur grinned.

“No!” Julian said firmly. “Leave it be.”

Arthur said nothing. He simply smiled.

Again, something full of breath and bravado darted past Julian in the darkness.

Julian coughed on the dust.

“Where’s that go, Sir?” Arthur asked, pointing to a splintering ladder.

“Up to the turret.” Julian answered. “I would go up there, you know, often. Thought I was a brave knight guarding my castle.”

“Really, sir?”

“As a boy, Arthur.” Julian added.

“Of course, Lord Fallbridge.” The footman smirked. “Shall I go up there now to look for Lady Barbara since you seem to think she’s gotten in here?”

“Yes.” Julian said, calling the footman’s bluff. “There’s a slight landing just before the trapdoor. Look there.”

Arthur paused, the smile fading from his lips for just a fleeting second.

Julian nodded.

“Is it safe, Sir?” Arthur asked.

“As safe as anything on this earth.” Julian answered.

Arthur hesitantly climbed the ladder, while Julian wandered deeper into the folly.

“Julian.” A faint whisper blew past Julian’s ear like a moth.

Julian’s stomach clenched, the surge of panic gripped his arms and shot into his legs.

“Who is it?” Julian asked, not moving.

There was no reply.

Julian blinked, straining to focus in the musty darkness.

A skittering sound in the farthest corner caught Julian’s attention. He squinted and saw a red flash.

“Punch!” Julian shouted.

And, then, it stopped—those eyes, those pink eyes and the ruby smile pulled back to his ears…

“Punch…” Julian croaked again.

Stumbling backward, Julian tried to catch his breath.

A loud crash from above made Julian spin, smacking his head on a thick wooden beam.

“Sir!” Arthur called from above. “Sir!”

The darkness around Julian began to spin as he tried to keep himself upright.

Numb everywhere except his throat—Julian felt his skin go raw.



Did you miss Chapters 1-4? If so, you can read them here.